Chapter 2

The next afternoon, I received a DM from Lydia.

【Hey Rhea, can we meet? I have something I want to return to you in person.】

I stared at the message, completely unable to think of what I might have that she'd be holding. But she immediately sent a photo—it was a ring, a dark red gemstone gleaming like blood in the light.

My hands started trembling.

It was a "moon seal ring."

In wolf tradition, the moon seal ring is an extremely intimate token. The process is simple but deeply significant: on a full moon night, you let your blood drip onto a silver ring, allowing the moonlight to fuse the blood into the metal. This means the giver has permanently etched their wolf mark into the ring.

It's usually only given when confirming a lifelong mate.

I remembered clearly. Last year on a full moon night, Lucian showed a rare tenderness. He said he wanted a token that belonged only to us, that even if we couldn't go public, our connection would still be real.

I was overjoyed, bit my finger, dripped blood onto the ring he'd prepared, and watched the moonlight fuse it into a dark red mark.

It was the most cherished gift I'd given Lucian.

But now it was in Lydia's hands.

【Tonight at 8 PM, Crimson Den. I'll be in a private room waiting for you.】

Crimson Den. An underground werewolf club where both half-bloods and purebloods went, the atmosphere ambiguous and chaotic. I'd never been to that kind of place, but I had to go get that ring back.

Not because I still cared about Lucian.

It was because it contained my blood, my wolf mark. If used by someone with ill intent, it could harm me.

At exactly 8 PM, I appeared at the entrance to Crimson Den. The air reeked of alcohol and hormones, deep music emanating from underground, every note seeming to provoke the most primal parts of our wolf nature.

Lydia's room number was in the very back. I passed through the dim hallway, drunk werewolves occasionally brushing past me, their gazes naked and presumptuous. I quickened my pace, trying not to attract attention.

The moment I pushed open the door, I knew I'd been tricked.

The room didn't just contain Lydia. There were four or five male werewolves I didn't recognize, all half-bloods by their scent, the kind of rogue wolves with no fixed pack who wandered around. Their eyes were clouded, the stench of alcohol practically solidified.

Lydia sat in the center of the sofa, her posture elegant like a queen. Seeing me, she showed a perfect smile.

"Rhea's here. Come in and sit."

I stopped at the doorway, instinctively wanting to retreat. "Where's the ring?"

"Don't rush." Lydia picked up her wine glass, taking a leisurely sip. "I genuinely want to help you. Lucian said you're looking for a mate, and I happen to know some decent half-bloods. They're all in good condition, you can take your time choosing."

She gestured to the men behind her.

One of them, sporting dirty yellow dreadlocks, swayed to his feet and lunged at me. Reeking of alcohol, he puckered his lips trying to kiss me: "Miss Hart's right, you are pretty cute. Come here, let me get a whiff of your scent..."

I instinctively dodged. He missed completely and crashed to the floor.

Lydia's expression immediately changed, her eyes reddening, her voice carrying grievance: "Lucian, look, doesn't Rhea like me? You said she wanted to find a mate, so I specially helped set up introductions, what kind of attitude is this..."

Only then did I notice someone sitting in the shadows at the back of the room.

Lucian.

He stood up from the darkness, stepping into the light. That face I'd gazed at countless times was now cold as ice.

"Apologize." His voice wasn't loud, but full of oppression. "Lydia went out of her way to help you, don't be ungrateful."

I looked at the yellow-haired half-blood still grinning on the floor, then at the imperious Lydia, and suddenly found it funny.

This was her good intentions?

Luring me to this kind of place, arranging these kinds of men?

And Lucian, he just stood there, like a judge, like a stranger, using a commanding tone to make me apologize to the person humiliating me.

"Why should I apologize?" I heard my voice come out very calm. "I never asked her to help set up introductions."

Lydia "casually" lifted her hand, tucking hair behind her ear. Moonlight streamed through the window, catching the ring on her wrist—the dark red gemstone glowing faintly in the darkness.

My moon seal ring.

She saw where I was looking, her smile becoming more triumphant. "Lucian, it's okay... I can take a little grievance..."

"I'll say it one more time." Lucian's voice grew colder, ice forming in his eyes. "Apologize!"

"I won't—"

Before I could finish, searing pain shot through my scalp.

The yellow-haired half-blood had somehow gotten up and grabbed my hair, yanking down hard. My knees slammed into the ground, pain shooting through them.

"Fucking bitch, dare to give Miss Hart attitude?" His voice was vicious. "You know who she is? The future lady of the Blackwood family! What the hell are you?"

His hand wandered lower inappropriately, finding my shoulder in the dim light, then going further down...

"Help..." I tried to call out but someone choked my throat.

"If you know you're wrong, apologize." Lucian's voice came from above, cold as if discussing something unrelated to him. "Apologize to Lydia and I won't pursue this."

I looked up, seeing him through my disheveled hair. He stood there, backlit, his entire figure shrouded in shadow. And Lydia nestled against him, her smile nearly twisted.

"No..." I gritted my teeth, feeling desperation. "Don't..."

The yellow-haired man's hand had reached the hem of my dress.

Lucian laughed coldly, putting his arm around Lydia and turning toward the door.

"Since that's how it is, let you learn a lesson. The Stone family spoiled you rotten, someone needs to teach you what rules are."

The sound of the door closing rang out.

I heard their footsteps fading, heard Lydia's sweet voice: "Lucian, you're so good, I knew you'd help me..."

The room contained only me and several rogue wolves whose eyes grew brighter by the second.

Moonlight streamed through the window, casting cold spots of light on the floor.

I closed my eyes, feeling my wolf surge within me. Not desire, but survival instinct. The most primal urge to fight back when cornered.

When the yellow-haired man started unbuckling his belt, I opened my eyes.